


what did you do those three days you were dead?

by crickets



Category: Harper's Island
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-03
Updated: 2010-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crickets/pseuds/crickets





	what did you do those three days you were dead?

It's her looking over his hospital bed the first time he wakes up. Sully's vision is blurred and consciousness won't settle in like it's supposed to and he moves his mouth to say her name.

"Shea," he manages, a croaky whisper, but he knows it's only audible in his head.

"Shh," she tells him, a hand over his. "You don't have to say anything. Save your energy."

His lids flutter closed, back to darkness.

-

 _The next time he wakes up, he's alone._

-

Two days after he's released from the hospital, he shows up at her door, pale and weak and not standing quite as tall as she remembers him.

"Sully," she says, puts an arm around his back, leads him to the nearest couch.

"Fucking reporters," he mumbles, an explanation. He's seeking refuge.

"God, I know," she tells him, sits beside him. "You should have seen the yard when we first got home. They were camped out there for..."

"Are you okay?" he blurts out, and Shea almost laughs. He's asking her if she's okay? "I mean,..." he stutters. "I mean, are you alright?"

"I am," she tells him, a hand on his cheek. "We are."

"Good," he says, leans into her touch, eyes closing. "Good."

 _It wasn't all for nothing._

Shea understands. He wanted to be sure. He got them home. He had to see it with his own eyes.

-

He sleeps on the couch that night and on into the next afternoon. Shea doesn't wake him when Richard's parents come to pick up Madison, just lets him sleep.

Madison leaves a friendship bracelet for him on the counter, hugs her mom, whispers, "make sure he gets it."

-

The next day, Sully wears the dark green thread around his wrist like a badge of honor.

"I love it," he says, marvels. "Love it," like he's never gotten such a gift.

"She'll be happy to hear it," Shea tells him, traces her finger around his wrist where the fabric lays.

Her touch lingers a bit too long and Sully stands a bit too close, and yet there's no discomfort in it. It's like they're simply clinging to life, taking in oxygen because you just have to, because it's natural and normal and necessary.

 _This_ , is necessary.

-

There are meals and comfortable silences and no discussions about what happened. She doesn't tell him of the stories she's read, three days lying on a forest floor. She doesn't ask him about Henry, can see the pain in his eyes.

"He was my best friend," he says one morning, absently.

Shea just holds his head in her hands. Presses lips to his forehead.

"I know," she tells him. "I know."

-

She dresses his wound one night. He doesn't really ask but she hears him fumbling in the bathroom and she steps in.

"Fucking thing," he grunts, before he sees her at the door.

"You want me to help you with that?"

Sully thinks he must be blushing, the heat in his cheeks rushing forward. He nods, turns his back towards her.

She cleans the skin around his wound as best she can, smooths bandages over the stitches, the scarring that will last forever, affixes white tape.

Sully watches her over his shoulder, kneeling at his side.

"You ever think about becoming a nurse?" he asks when she's done.

"Hardly," she stands, smiles, shakes her head.

There's a moment where neither of them moves. And then Sully can feel her warmth when she leans closer, kisses his bare shoulder.

"This is okay?" She whispers.

Sully turns. "It's okay," he says, gruff, and his hand comes to pull at the back of her neck, and he presses lips roughly against hers, tries not to stumble.

She doesn't taste of alcohol or cigarettes or cherry lip gloss. She's salty and sweet and hungry and he groans when he twists the wrong way.

"It hurts?" she asks, concerned.

"It hurts," he confirms in a voice that tells her that this is a pain that he's willing to endure.

-

Shea leads him to one of the guestrooms, won't take him to the bed that she and Richard shared.

The shades are drawn and it's dark and hard to see, but she helps him find the mattress, eases him down.

She'll have to be careful, she knows. His kisses are earnest and she can barely get his pants off without hurting him. He's hard and waiting and he grunts when she touches him.

"I can't," he says, apologetic. But Shea silences him with another kiss, her fingers twisting in his hair. She'll have to do the work.

He keens when she eases down on top of him, and she knows that he's in pain. She makes quick work, grips his upper back, rolling and thrusting and urging him to come.

He feels weak beneath her and she slows, almost stops.

"No don't," he breathes, "Keep going."

 _So she does._

Soon she can feel his fingers, the ones not gripping her thigh for dear life, sliding across the clammy skin of her stomach, feels his thumb brush over her clit.

She moans, clenches around him, and feels him thrust up into her in climax. Shea is careful not to let Sully roll onto his back, and the sound of their exhausted breathing is only broken when he starts to swear in whispers under his breath.

Shea apologizes, helps him move to a more comfortable position, and Sully swallows her words with kisses.

"Shut up," he tells her. "Totally fucking worth it."

-

In the morning there are long silences and more bandages to be changed, and Madison's coming home. She doesn't kiss him when he comes into the kitchen and Sully begins to feel like he's overstayed his welcome.

"You know," he tells Shea when she sits next to him at the table. "I can go." This is the thing he's always done. The disconnection, the gulf he's always kept between himself and others.

Shea only leans over to him, scoots her chair slightly, wraps her fingers around the back of his neck.

"Stay," she tells him before she kisses him.

 _And he does_

 _-fin_


End file.
